


Checkmate

by Copper_Nails (Her_Madjesty)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BadatRecon!Kylo, Chess, Chess Metaphors, F/M, Smug!Rey, heavy-handed symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 10:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5825599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Her_Madjesty/pseuds/Copper_Nails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Names flash through her mind: pawns, rooks, knights, kings. Queens. There are lessons imbedded in the stones, names of moves she doesn’t know. Rey opens her mouth to ask about them, but changes her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Checkmate

**Author's Note:**

> Me: *uses the Force to teach Rey how to play chess*  
> Han Solo, in the distance: "That's not how the Force works!"
> 
> (See notes at the end for a glossary of terms)

She’s sitting at a table in the middle of a swath of green, watching a group of children fight over a ball. Her hair is down, swinging past her shoulders and dancing in a breeze.

Reconnaissance, the General called it. Blending in. All of which was shorthand for “pseudo-stalking the citizens of different planets in case they were loyal to the First Order and reporting anything that’s not quite boring.”

Any information at all, the General said, would help them win the war. Rey isn’t so sure, but she’s not the one in charge.

One of the children squeals and starts to run, ball in hand. Rey watches as the other children give chase.

She’s tired. There are bruises on her back that ache every time she moves; bruises from training, bruises from fighting, bruises from flying. There are wounds bacta can’t heal, buried beneath her skin. Her head aches whenever she thinks. She is, for all sakes and purposes, back where she started: alone on a planet, observing but not being.

There’s a presence next to her. Rey looks up and has to squint to see the face of the man who’s now hovering by her table.

“Er, hi.” He says. “Do you mind – I mean, is anyone else sitting here?”

Rey shakes her head. “Nah, feel free.” She reaches out with the Force and peeks into his head, biting down a surge of shame. He’s Force sensitive, but not aware of it yet; it calls to her from beneath his skin, but is otherwise mute. Rey pulls back and forces a smile.

The man thanks her and takes a seat. She turns her head back to the children, watching him out of the corner of her eye. He dwarfs the seat, long legs stretching out onto the grass, and the wind tangles in his curling hair. There’s something familiar about him, and yet, something not: his hair’s too light, his eyes too green. He looks, for all the word, completely normal.

She wonders what that feels like. Being normal. She misses it, somedays.

“Is one of them yours?” He asks.

Rey starts, then laughs. “Oh, no. I just come out here when I get bored. They’re fun to watch.”

One of the children shrieks. She looks back and sees the ball go flying.

The man raises an eyebrow. “They’re energetic.”

Rey smiles, but says nothing. She glances up at the sky, eyeing the pair of suns cresting overhead. She has a report due to the General that evening and no new information to give. If she’s lucky, Leia will order her on to some new planet, maybe somewhere closer to Resistance activity.

“Okay, sorry.” The man says, interrupting her thoughts. “I know I might be bothering you, and I’m sorry, but you look new. I haven’t seen you around here before.”

Rey forces her attention back to him. “I’m just visiting.” She says. “My aunt’s recovering from Findis flu and I’m helping take care of her.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” The man nods. “Where are you from, then?”

“Here and there.” Rey shrugs. “I run shipments for WDF, when they aren’t busy fending off attacks.”

“Ah, a pilot.” Her new friend smiles. “I bet there’s not a planet in the system that you haven’t seen.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Rey laughs. Her heart is slamming against her ribs. It seemed a viable cover story, when she and the General had discussed it. The stranger seems unperturbed, so just maybe it would work.

“Perhaps you’ll indulge me, then.” He smiles. “I picked up a game on one of my visits to the Mid Rim. I know the basics of it, but would you play it with me? I suppose you’ll know it better than I do.”

Rey opens her mouth to find an excuse, any excuse to say no, but he’s already pulling the board out of his bag. It’s folded into four squares and covered in black and white checks.

“I haven’t played this in _years_.” Rey says, through gritted teeth. “I’m not sure I’ll be any better than you.”

“Nonsense.” The man tsks. Rey sees him pull a draw-string from his bag. “It’ll come back to you. Here, help me set up the pieces.”

There are an obscene number of pieces, Rey determines, as he pours them out on the table. She hesitates, then ghosts over his mind. The setup is there, like it’s waiting for her to take. Rey hides her sigh of relief and gets to work.

“The Bimm who sold this to me called it ‘chess’.” The man says, setting the smallest pieces up in a line. “She said it was a metaphor for the conflict within each individual, between darkness and light.”

Rey picks up a tall piece and rolls it between her fingers. “I’d never heard it explained like that.”

The man shrugs. “I think it’s bullshit, honestly. But: which color would you like to play?”

There’s a twinge in the Force that feels like amusement. Rey sets the piece aside. “White, please.”

The man smirks. “Of course.”

The familiarity to back, hovering around him like a cloak. Rey’s tempted to peak into his mind again and is repulsed by her own curiosity. She sets up her pieces to distract herself; small soldiers in a row before her. The names flash through her mind: pawns, rooks, knights, kings. Queens. There are lessons imbedded in the stones, names of moves she doesn’t know. She opens her mouth to ask about them, but changes her mind.

The man finishes before she does and watches as she toys with each one. When she looks up, she sees him smiling.

“White makes the first move,” he says, once she’s done. “As you know.”

“Right.” Rey tries for a smile. She bites her lip and stares at the pieces. Behind her, she hears the children squeal.

She picks a pawn and slides it forward.

They play their first moves in silence. He mirrors her for a while, a pawn to match a pawn and a knight to match a knight. The pieces pulse beneath her fingers. Rey bites her lip and wonders at the feeling.

Her opponent notices. He slides a pawn forward. “The Bimm also told me that these used to belong to a Jedi.” He says, his fingers lingering. “Which would explain why she charged me so much for them. They feel weird, don’t they?”

“A bit, yeah.” Rey frowns. “A Jedi owned them?”

“So she said.” The man shrugs. He waits for Rey to capture his pawn, then moves to catch one of hers. “It works with her story. If the Jedi had to conquer light and dark, then why wouldn’t they play something like this?”

Rey hums, noncommittal. She moves her bishop in line with his king. “Check.”

The man looks away from her and scowls at the board. “Are you sure you haven’t played recently?”

“Believe me, I barely know what I’m doing.” Rey laughs. It’s not a lie, but the man thinks it is. She feels the Force shift around him, drawing in tight.

“What do you do here?” She asks, emboldened.

The man uses his bishop to block hers. “This and that.” He grumbles. “Was a radar technician, once. Now I work public security.”

“See a lot of action?”

He chuckles. Rey moves her knight into enemy territory. “Not enough to make things exciting.” He admits, capturing her other knight. “I’ve been thinking of heading out of here, maybe go to the Outer Rim for a while. I’ve heard the Ileenium system’s full of action.”

“Really?” She asks, careful to keep her face composed. “I try to stay away from the Outer Rim.”

“I imagine.” He chuckles. “The First Order would board your ship in a minute if they knew you were transporting weapons.”

She resists the urge to capture his knight and lingers over her queen, pushing her halfway across the board. He raises an eyebrow and moves a pawn forward, threatening her lonely knight.

“I’d rather keep out of the First Order’s hair.” She says, moving her queen again. “Check.”

He moves a pawn to stand in her way. She takes it with her knight. “They’re not exactly the nicest people.” He murmurs, fingers idling over his king. Even without the help of Force, Rey knows he’s nervous. He moves his king out of harm’s way, then glances at her again. “Though I’m not sure who’s worse: them or the Jedi.”

Rey feels disgust curling in her gut. “The Jedi never committed genocide.” She snaps. Her opponent hums, noncommittal.

Rey narrows her eyes and looks at him, really looks at him. He’s not meeting her eye anymore, distracted by the children playing in the field. Something about him feels off, shimmering in the light of the suns. Rey frowns; her mind reaches for his without a thought. She feels him spark against her touch.

He looks at her, and his eyes, once green, are startlingly dark. Rey takes a cautious breath, and returns her attention to the board.

She hesitates, then smiles. “If we’re speaking on the matter of balance,” she says, picking up her knight. “Then I suppose the First Order is doing us a favor.”

“Oh?” The man lifts an eyebrow. “And how’s that?”

Rey sets her knight down with a triumphant smile. “It means the Jedi will have to come back to balancing things out.”

She has his king pinned between her queen and knight. Her opponent looks down at the board and scowls.

“Thank you for the game.” She says, standing. “It was good to play again, but I think I’ll need to get back to my aunt. I’m sure she’s wondering where I am.”

“Of course.” He murmurs, not taking his eyes from the board. The Force tugs at his edges. Rey smiles. His disguise is slipping.

“Maybe we can play again some time.” She hears herself say.

He looks up at her, and she sees the real him: long nose, dark eyes, silver-pink scar running across his face. She wonders if he’s doing it on purpose, or if he even knows he’s dropped his disguise.

“I’m not opposed.” He says. “It seems like I need a teacher.”

Rey offers him her most winning smile before turning her back to him and walking away. He’s still sitting there when she looks back, staring after her. She waves, then disappears around a corner, her pace brisk. Her heart’s thundering in her chest.

The General will want to know that the First Order’s most obnoxious Knight of Ren is on their tail.

  

**Author's Note:**

> Brief glossary of terms (Friggin' Star Wars, with your extended universes and your need for research.)
> 
> The Bimm: A humanoid race of artisans and merchants who migrated to the Mid Rim planets. More or less space hobbits.
> 
> Findis flu: A common cold that has long lasting aftereffects. To my understanding, similar to the Earth flu. 
> 
> WDF, aka Weapons Development Facility: A weapons facility on Naboo that frequently found itself under attack during the Clone Wars, and that I'm /assuming/ is still operational. 
> 
> Ileenium System: A system on the Outer Rim where the Resistance keeps its major base.


End file.
